Angels Fall
by BlackStarXxX
Summary: You've always wanted to fly away. Now you're 18 and you feel like there's nothing stopping you. I don't own Glee


Sitting on the wet, rusty railing of the hospital entrance I let myself remember it all.

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I was 5 when my brother abandoned me at the gas station alone 20 miles from the house. I sit on the sidewalk and wait for him to come back. He doesn't. After awhile I start thinking maybe it's a test or something. I hate tests. I don't like being by myself. I look up as a flock of birds fly by over my head.

I was 7 when Grandpa died. I get his old pocket watch for some reason. He wanted you to have it, says Nana. Grandpa was the one that taught me guitar and piano, I miss him. It's OK, says my parents, he'll watch over you with angel wings. I'm a little jealous Grandpa gets wings, I think, will I get wings when I die?

You're too young to be thinking like that, says father. It doesn't matter, I'll get your wings one day, like Grandpa. I miss him. The inscription on the watch becomes my motto.

I'm 8 and Alice and I were playing superheroes._ {I remember this memory vividly}._ If I could have any superpower it would be flight. We were playing "Queen of the bandits". I'm the superhero and Alice is the evil queen/bad guy as usual.

Then Alice told me not to jump on and off walls. It's dangerous, she says. I'm not jumping, I'm flying and I tell her so. She says that falling off the wall isn't flying. I disagree. It is, until you hit the ground_._

I was 9 when I was diagnosed with ADHD.

I've always had trouble in school. Incomplete homework's. Trouble sleeping. Doodling on class work. Always talking and interrupting the teacher. Silent Reading was an absolute nightmare, all the words all got jumbled up and I couldn't focus enough to get it right and I always squirmed in my seat.

Mother always accepted it as one of my quirks, Father however kept insisting that I wasn't trying hard enough and that I should focus and _Try damn it, you aren't trying!_

Of course, why would they think there's something wrong with me when the four- no three- of us are the perfect family, the one all of the neighbours are jealous of. It isn't until Mrs. White talks to them about it did they take me to a doctor.

Up until then I just thought I was stupid, God knows all the other children did.

I was 11 when my parents visibly started to crack.

I was taking my mediation and it helped for a while but then it suddenly... didn't. I got something stronger and it's OK again. I had to go to "Behavioural therapy" I didn't like that everyone thought I need therapy but all the doctors were super nice about it and I got a lollipop if I was really, really good. Cherry flavour because the green ones were and still are yucky.

Going back home was pretty rough though. By the time I had walked home from the clinic the lollipop was gone and so was the flavour in my mouth and all there was, was a pit of dread in my stomach.

My parents fight all the time, the start when I'm away but rarely stop by the time I've come home or stop when they notice me, if they do even notice me that is. They hardly take notice of me anymore.

I blamed yourself. I wished I was a better son, if I was a better son they wouldn't fight as much. I really wished my big brother was there but he left me alone at the gas station six years ago. At times

I really want to fly away after him and forget about this family like he did.

_Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness's of other people_

_-Carl Jung_

I was 13 when you unintentionally told my parents. I didn't know what you were telling them at the time, I was 13! The new kid in school was cute, so what if he was another boy? He looks like an angel.

I love angels, they give you wings for crying out loud! When my parents used to take me to church on Sundays I'd zone out the priest to look at the stain glass windows, they ones with pictures of angels. You daydream about them one day giving you wings to fly with them.

_People are like stained - glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within_

_- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross_

I heard horrible things that night. Truly horrible things. Thing I never thought I'd hear my parents say about me. I climbed out the bedroom window to go to Alice's that night, it became a habit after a while.

I was 14 when I ruined Alice's life, according to her parents.

It was an accident. It was a mistake. I honestly didn't know what to call it. I didn't mean too and Alice didn't blame me. It takes two to tango after all, she says. My parents blame Alice and her parents blame me but somehow we become closer than ever despite the odds. Yea, at 14 you didn't have a clue what I was doing, not really but I did know three things for certain;

1.)I was going to do the right thing and stay with Alice no matter what and defend her till the end.

2.) Remember my motto.

3.) I was going to try and be the best father I could be at 14.

I was 15, and it all went to shit.

My parents finally did it.

They kicked me out saying they'll provide financially until I'm 18, then I'm on my own, it was confusing for me at first because, well from my point of view I was already on my own.

I moved in with my Nana, the same one from when I was 7, along with baby Angelica.

She was my world.

My sun, my moon, my stars. Everything I have and all that I am , I'd give it all up for her in a heartbeat if she asked me too. Well, if she could talk she's only a few months old after all. At 13 was mistaken, my daughter's the real angel and no one and nothing can compare. Well, maybe the young mother that died giving birth to her.

They'll be with one another soon, I think solemnly at night, Angelica has trouble breathing. There's tests and tubes and it's horrible and I just kept thinking why her? She's innocent in all this, she hasn't done anything wrong.

She hasn't developed properly in the lungs, says Nana. I knew this though, she was born six weeks early. Premature. But that's still doesn't mean that I like bringing my baby girl to hospital every couple of weeks or so, Nana helps though. Nana adores Angelica almost as much as I do, which is saying a lot. Nana doesn't judge me for my "lifestyle" as she put it, I'm not going to say it's not a lifestyle for me, it's not a choice, she accepts me it doesn't matter _how_, Nana is amazing and I needed her.

Then there's a dance.

You need to get out of the house, says Nana. You'll gather cobwebs.

I agree to go.

I would very much like to go with a boy though.

Jason Matthews

He's out. We're friends. He's cute. He's nice. I ask. We go.

You'll be fine, I told him.

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I was wrong.

Dead wrong.

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_So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing_

_-T.S. Eliot_

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There's bats and clubs and fists and feet and it all hurts so god damn much. It's not funny no matter how much the assaulters laugh at my misery. I've always been small and not that much of a fighter, not to mention that I'm unarmed and outnumbered 2-12.

I try to defend myself but that just encourages them to hit harder. I try to reach Jason but he's not holding up any better than I was.

Then my head goes back and hits the pavement with a sickening _crack._

I'm dizzy, hurt, my vision blackening and I'm somewhat certain that I have a boot print on my stomach and face.

_Right then you'd welcome death with open arms._

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I wake up to a nurse singing, I'm in the hospital.

Nana comes in sobbing in relief. Everything is OK, I tell her, It's OK now. She shakes her head to the side and explains.

My mouth goes dry. My throat closes up. I feel moisture in my eyes. I feel sick and not because the people who beat me got away with it scotch free.

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to die. I want to fly. I want to curl up in a ball and stay away from the cruel world that's out to get me.

_Your 15._

_You were beat up at your school dance._

_You were in a coma for 7 months._

_Your friend Jason didn't make it through the first hour of the attack._

_You missed your daughter funeral_.

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_You have to have darkness for the dawn to come_

_-Harrison Ford _

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I'm 16

I'm not living anymore I'm just barely getting by. I had to transfer schools and repeat my freshman year because I missed out on to much schoolwork in hospital. I scrape by. It's enough.

I've joined a club. A show choir. It's named after a type of bird. A sort of friend, Wes, put my name down for auditions. Surprise, surprise I got in.

I like the little yellow bird they give to me and I take extra special care of it until it's passed to the newest member of the group. I find it odd how the little guy can open his cage, a party trick David taught it, and yet chooses to go back in behind bars when called.

Birds should fly free. That's how I think. Nothing bad happens to them when there in the air, it's only on the ground they get hurt. Like me.

I come to the conclusion that it doesn't fly away because Dalton is safe. The little bird wants to be safe so stays at Dalton. With this logic try my best to remember my behavioural therapy sessions and to fit in with the flock

Then I met him.

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_Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness._

_-Desmond Tutu_

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Nobody's perfect not even him.

He can think he's superior than everyone else, he's snarky, he's vain, he can he almost painfully blunt and sometimes just plain cold if anyone upsets him.

Although he's loyal, he's funny, he kind-hearted at the core, he's caring to those who care. He's a fighter, a little cracked but definitely not broken. He's not as breakable as the porcelain doll he looks like at times. He's just so full of courage and you make sure to remind him of it.

Courage...

Courage is the ability and willingness to confront fear. Physical courage is the face of physical pain. Moral courage is the ability to act rightly in the face of opposition.

Courage.

It's been my motto since I was 7 and although I can pretend, I didn't really know what it meant until he came along.

I'm friends with him at first, just having him around makes me feel like a sunny day, does that make sense? Probably not but it's true. He's a little younger than me and I like being a role model for him, having him look up to me with such trust in his eyes that I haven't seen anyone give me since I last saw Angelica.

Your friends, just friends.

Everyone tells me that the two of us could be more but I don't believe it for a second.

I'm friendly with him; not flirty.

We study together because he's smart and helps me; not because I want him to myself for two hours.

We go on coffee "dates" because we both have a caffeine addictions; not because I actually want to date him, don't be silly.

I might have a learning disability or whatever but I'm not stupid. He's way too good for me.

That doesn't stop my heart from missing a beat every time I see him though. All my reasons mean swat to my heart and I can't keep hoping that maybe...

.

_Being deeply loved by someone gives you__** strength**__, while loving someone deeply gives you __**courage**_

_-Lao Tzu_

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I'm 17.

Me and the boy have kissed.

Me and the boy have dated.

I'm pretty certain it might be love.

I'm so happy.

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I debate with myself at night whether or not I should tell him about my best friend and my daughter and about Jason.

I don't want too.

I really, really don't want too.

I don't want him to hate me.

I don't want him to see how pathetic I really am.

I don't want him to know that I'm responsible for the deaths of the two people that meant the world to me.

I don't want him to know that a 15 year old called Jason Mattews died because of me.

I don't want him to know how desperately I want to fly away from it all. Like a coward.

Coward, I tell myself. Coward, coward, coward. Over and over and over.

I want so badly to fly away from everything at times.

I can't though, he's my anchor but that isn't a completely bad thing.

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Sitting on the wet, rusty railing of the hospital entrance I let yourself forget it all.

It's my 18th birthday and I'm spending it in the rain, outside a hospital entrance.

I'm 18.

Nana fell down the stairs and broke her hip.

The surgery didn't go well.

She died at 23:57 her last words "Happy birthday"

I try to comfort myself with the fact she was old, it was her time and she's in a better place now.

I can't even pretend to believe my empty words.

How did I get like this? I asked myself.

Then I remembered.

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It's 04:23. I dig into you jean pockets to find my cell phone. I call my boyfriend's father to come pick me up since he's in Ohio and his son's in New York, by my encouragement no less.

On my 18th birthday I ask the one question I haven't dared to ask anyone since I was 5 and a little girl called Alice found sitting on the sidewalk at a nameless gas station 20 miles from my house.

_In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present_

_- Francis Bacon_

"Why does everyone leave me?"


End file.
